But this morning, he started reading to me: old saved stuff from his Documents folder on his PC. (I have learned not to fault him for his inferior choice in computers.) Turns out, Josh kept a blog when he was in Iraq. Oh yes, because Josh was an infantryman in the army for three tours in Iraq. Contrary to what I thought I would feel when I first learned this about him, Josh's involvement with the war is one of the things I have come to most cherish about him, because instead of being some jarhead war enthusiast (as I ignorantly imagined all former military must be), thumping his chest and stomping all over intelligence and democracy with this steel-toed boots, he is an environmentalist, altruistic and fiercely protective of what is right. He has honor and nobility coming out of his ass. He is totally dreamy.
He read a paper to me about his mission to take back Basra. Something I didn't know about Josh: he is an excellent writer. Okay, I take that back. I received emails from Josh early in our courtship which affirmed his literacy. But this is real life stuff: the smell of sweat and blood in a bullet-ridden city; the language of men. Listening to Josh read to me, I got the sense that, not only had I underestimated his ability to write creatively and communicate not just facts -- but feelings and sentimentality -- but there are years of his life as a paratrooper that I will never be able to fully understand or appreciate. This is a feeling I get every time he tells me war stories: How will I ever be able to communicate the wonder I feel; the pride of knowing him, post-war, and that all of it has sculpted an incredibly tender, self-aware and vigilant crusader of the Earth.
These feelings have revived a thought I had recently, when discussing with Josh our plan to thru-hike the Pacific Crest Trail next Spring: I should write a book. A book about hiking the PCT with the person you love, and all the nasty, glorious turns of events that come from living out of a tent and a couple of backpacks for months on end.
Turns out, there's already a book about one couple's experience hiking the PCT, but I'm pretty sure mine would be more awesome. I haven't read the other book, but considering that Josh and I are infinitely awesome, I think my book about hiking the PCT together will also be infinitely awesome. If I were me (like I am), I would be all about reading a book about a couple hiking the PCT together. So maybe I'll order it.
Thinking about the PCT, and also the writings that Josh shared with me this morning, I feel pretty amped-up about delving into all I don't know about Josh -- and myself -- during our six month long hike together. (Okay, actually, we won't have time to thru-hike the whole thing, because Josh will have to be back for school in September, 2012. We'll probably only be able to hike for 4.5 or 5 months. But I still think it would be an awesome book. Do you think we could get sponsored? Could I get an advancement on a book contract?)
It's sort of humbling, actually, to look across the couch at someone you know really well, and know -- miraculously, astonishingly -- how much you don't know about them. Maybe the book would be a good way to selflessly assert myself into a sort of inquiring mission to get to know my partner better. And then I could document it. I could talk about all the deep stuff (confronting ideologies about our interaction with the environment, capacity for doing without) as well as blister comparisons and reflections on how one's levels of flatulence changes with the elevation.
Here's a video to get you thinking about how awesome next year is going to be for me. It's a long one, so if you skip through it to get the general idea, I won't be mad....
Dreams' 2010 Pacific Crest Trail Video from Drew Reams on Vimeo.
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